


Regret

by ViveLaRebellion



Series: Something's Wrong [5]
Category: Thomas Sanders, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Blood, Dissociation, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Panic Attacks, Self-Harm, Unreliable Narrator, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-04 05:07:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10983984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViveLaRebellion/pseuds/ViveLaRebellion
Summary: After scolding Anxiety, Roman is surprised to find Thomas worse off than before.





	Regret

**Author's Note:**

> good golly this is the conclusion to my little series! again, super trigger happy because im a total monster. also i have no idea how to write in roman's voice so this should be fun. read safely kiddos!

Roman was absolutely bristling. Dealing with Anxiety always left him in a foul mood, and this time had been particularly frustrating. Not only had Anxiety proven as stubborn as ever, but he had also interrupted and laid his hands on Roman. 

The blatant disrespect rubbed him the wrong way. As he rejoined Thomas in the physical realm, he at least hoped he had gotten through to him.

He had not gotten through to him.

Thomas was having a panic attack. Curled up in the corner of the couch, hands knotted in his hair and hyperventilating.

Roman felt a flare of anger towards Anxiety, but stifled it quickly. His host needed him. 

"Thomas, can you hear me?" Roman began to approach slowly, lowering himself down to be more on Thomas' level. He felt slight relief when he saw Thomas nod. "May I approach?" Another nod and Roman kneeled next to the couch.

Despite his responsiveness, Thomas didn't seem to be entirely present. He tried to follow Roman with his eyes, but they didn't track him properly; flitting and wandering away and back in fear. Roman held back a piteous sigh. It always pained him to see Thomas like this, but he was also the best at calming him down. 

"May I touch you?" He knew Thomas usually preferred physical contact of some sort to keep him from dissociating in the middle of an attack, which threw off all the personas and left Thomas disoriented. Anticipating the affirmative answer, he reached out a hand to rest on Thomas' arm. That proved to be an immediate mistake.

Thomas' eyes had finally focused on Roman properly and widened in fear. He didn't process the question asked, but saw the hand reach out to him and his entire brain screamed. "NO! No don't touch me!" He shrieked, jumping away from the hand and burying deeper into the couch.

Roman pulled his hand away like he had been burned before raising both of them in a sign of surrender. This was unusual. This was the first time Thomas had denied physical contact, but Roman didn't question him on it. He instead proceeded to the next standard question for one of Thomas' attacks. "Very well. What do you need?"

Thomas stared wide eyed at Roman for a long moment.  _somethings wrong somethings wrong somethingsverywrong_ He tried to speak, but he couldn't get a deep enough breath. His eyes watered as his body strained for air, and he saw understanding dawn on the Prince's face.

"Thomas, you're hyperventilating. Can you breathe with me?" Thomas nodded and tried to follow the Prince's breathing, but was finding it much more difficult than usual. His lungs tried to cooperate, but every time he looked at the Prince his brain screamed danger at him and he had no idea why. He finally had to just close his eyes and follow along that way.

After several minutes of stuttered, desperate gasping, Roman had finally calmed Thomas down enough to breathe properly, but now the boy was refusing to even look at him. Another anomaly.

"Thomas, do you need anything?" Roman repeated his previous question.

Thomas shook his head before turning to look at the Prince again and visibly flinching away. "I.. I need you to go."

Thomas' voice was breathy and soft, but the words struck Roman like a slap. "I beg your pardon?"

Thomas squeezed his eyes shut and forced down a steady breath. "I need you to leave, Princy. Please go."

Roman was stunned. Never ever had Thomas simply denied his help. Something was very wrong. "Thomas, I can't just leave you like this. Please, tell me what the problem is." Roman pleaded with his host, confused and concerned.

Thomas shook his head, doing his best to suppress the terror in his veins enough to talk. "You're the problem, Princy. Go away. Get outta here." As tired and scared as he was, his voice came sharp and frustrated. He felt so trapped and the only thing he knew for sure was that Princy was bad. He had to get him away.

Roman sat stunned for a moment before backing away and standing. "Shall I send Logic or Morality?" There was no way he was going to leave Thomas to deal with this on his own. If he couldn't help, one of the others surely could.

"Logic, please." Thomas gasped out. 

Roman nodded. "It will be done."

As he sank out of the physical realm he focused on his destination, worry gnawing at him for Thomas. He emerged in front of Logic's door and knocked briskly. Logan answered almost immediately.

"He's panicking?" Logan never beat around the bush. Roman could appreciate that sometimes. He simply nodded before the logical trait was fading out to go to Thomas.

Knowing Thomas would be cared for, he turned his attention to the cause of the drama, marching to Anxiety's room for the second time within the hour. At least the first time had just been because of intrusive, distracting thoughts, but a full blown panic attack for the first time in months was inexcusable.

Roman stormed to Anxiety's room, rage bubbling in his chest, ready to give Anxiety a piece of his mind and make sure it stuck this time. He gripped the hilt of his sword to relieve some of the tension as he swung the door open, the beginning of his tirade on his tongue, only to find the room empty. Roman snarled and groaned in frustration. He did not want to go on a wild goose hunt for the unreasonable trait.

Turning on his heel to go on his search, he froze.  In the soft quiet of Anxiety's room, he could hear what sounded like... crying? Crying and muttering drifted out of the darkness, like something out of a horror movie.

Gripping his sword tighter he took a few hesitant steps into the darkness.

He hated the way the darkness in this room always felt stifling and menacing. He didn't bother seeking out a light switch because he knew there was none in Anxiety's room. The sound seemed to be coming from the attached bathroom. The door was shut, giving the sound an eerie, muffled quality; the light was on inside and shone through the cracks around the door giving it a menacing appearance.

"Anxiety?" Roman called hesitantly. There was no response or change, though. "Anxiety, its Roman, I'm coming in." Swallowing the feeling of foreboding in his gut, Roman grabbed the knob and swung the door open.

Roman squinted briefly in the sudden light, and then had to bite his tongue to keep from shouting in surprise. The contents of the medicine cabinet were scattered across the floor, and there, on the ground, was Anxiety casually sitting in a mess of smeared blood and hyperventilating. 

Instantly Roman was at his level, hands fluttering uncertainly as he fought the urge to get in his space. "Anxiety, can you hear me?" Roman's voice shook as he fell back into the questions he asked Thomas only minutes ago. He felt no relief, however, when Anxiety nodded lethargically in reply.

This felt too much like the first time he had helped Thomas. He was uncertain and confused and afraid. "Ok, ok that's good. Can I, um, may I approach?"

Anxiety furrowed his brows at the question and ticked his head to the side slightly to try and look at him. Anxiety's eyes resembled Thomas'. They were unfocused, even as he looked at Roman, his gaze never seemed to truly land on him, instead flickering and floating. Anxiety's eyes were the only part of his face that betrayed that he was in the throws of panic. If not for the fact he was hyperventilating and very bloody, Roman would have assumed him fine, perhaps just very tired.

"... I think so." Anxiety's voice was raspy and soft, but Roman focused on the fact that he could respond verbally. As Roman started to shuffle forward, Anxiety's eyes landed on his hand, still gripping his sword like a lifeline.

The haze lifted from Anxiety's face and was replaced by terror. He convulsed slightly as he jolted away from Princy, his throat closing in panic as he tried to scream. As he jerked away he leaned back on a bloody hand and suddenly the world flipped as it slid out from under him. 

 

There were hands on him.

There were hands on him and he couldn't breathe and why did his leg hurt so much? He heard a very familiar voice talking to him, telling him to breathe, "You're hyperventilating. You have to breathe, Anxiety. Can you hear me? Anxiety! Anxiety _Breathe!_ " Anxiety nodded stiffly, just wanting the shouting to stop. He opened his mouth to try to speak, but he still couldn't breathe, and if he couldn't breathe he couldn't speak. 

'Help me' His lips moved but no sound came out and his heart seized in further panic. He felt trapped and he was going to suffocate and die like this all because of Roman  _ ~~cruel roman cruel cruelcruelcruel he hates you  youre better off dead die diediedie he hates you they all hate you~~_ ~~~~Anxiety's hands found fabric -a shirt? - in front of him and he latched on for dear life. A few terrified tears leaked out of his closed eyes. ~~~~

The voice was speaking to him again. Soothing words. Telling him he was fine, he was safe, nothing was going to hurt him. Clinging to those words ~~ _lies_~~ Anxiety began to feel some of the terror drain out of him until he could breathe again, and the moment he could he gasped greedily for air.

He shuddered and coughed and gasped and he had never loved air more than that moment in his life. It was like he had been underwater until that very moment, and he had been drowning. Anxiety felt his leg throb and he couldn't stop a small whine of pain from escaping. "Why does it hurt? It shouldn't hurt! I don't do that anymore, I _stopped_." His voice was pinched and harsh and he was so scared and had no idea what was happening anymore.

He felt fingers in his hair and was being shushed gently. "Anxiety, you're still hyperventilating, I need you to breathe with me, ok?" 

Even as Anxiety nodded, he panted out, "Why are you being... so nice? I don't... I don't need help."

The voice chuckled at his defiance, and then proceeded to start a breathing exercise. Anxiety recognized it. It was one he used rather often.  _at least my imaginary friend isn't useless..._

 

 

About 7 minutes into the exercise, Anxiety had started counting softly in between breathes. Roman had noticed the habit over the last month, but it had never occurred to him Anxiety was using it to calm down. He felt some shame for the times he had snapped at Anxiety for it, finding the numbers distracting and annoying.

After another minute of the exercise, Anxiety was breathing fine on his own, but the counting continued. No longer concerned that Anxiety would pass out, Roman reached for the first aid kit under the sink. "I'm going to start cleaning up your leg, alright?" Anxiety nodded, the counting not stopping.

Roman unpacked some gauze and an inoffensive antibiotic to spread on the cuts. Now that Roman himself wasn't in a frenzy, he could see there wasn't actually much blood. It was spread and smeared, but it was thin, and much of it was dry by now, meaning none of the cuts were particularly deep. That was the biggest relief of the evening.

Roman grabbed a towel and began to gently wipe away excess blood from the wounds so he could put the antibiotic gel over them. The numbers continued to climb until Anxiety reached 94 and his eyes fluttered open. He looked Roman in the eye and squinted before closing his eyes again. "Weird..." 

Roman frowned as he unscrewed the cap off the gel. "What's weird?"

Anxiety made a non-committal gesture with his hand and tipped his head back against the toilet. "This. I've never hallucinated before. Dunno why its gotta be you of all people." 

Roman paused, unsure how to proceed. "Anxiety, you think I am a hallucination? A mere delusion?"

He shrugged. "Yeh. It makes more sense than you actually being here. You hate me. It makes no sense." 

Roman's heart sank. Anxiety thought that he was so hated that Roman would simply abandon him? "What if I told you that I'm real? That I'm really helping you right now."

Anxiety scrunched his face up in thought, counting softly under his breath again for a few moments. "I'd call bullshit. No way Princy would be this nice to me. He wants me dead." Anxiety sounded so sure of himself. It made Roman want to be sick.

"Well, believe it or not, I don't want you dead. I actually very much prefer you alive, Anxiety." Anxiety frowned and propped himself up on his elbows, finally really looking at Roman as he recommenced applying the antibiotic gel to Anxiety's cuts.

Anxiety watched his every move intently, like he was trying to find a glitch in the matrix, before his gaze softened into surprise. "You're really here..."

Roman nodded as he replaced the cap on the tube of gel. "Yes I am." Putting the medicine down, he looked Anxiety in the eye. "I'm sorry for treating you so boorishly, Anxiety. I have behaved reprehensibly to you and its unacceptable."

Anxiety averted his gaze and the counting started again. Roman took that as his cue to start wrapping the cuts up. There were nearly twenty lines. He wasn't surprised his apology wasn't accepted, if he caused Anxiety to react this way.

"I don't get it. Thirty minutes ago you're telling me I'm the worst thing since Trump, and suddenly you're helping me? Is this the twilight zone?" Anxiety huffed, glaring suspiciously at Roman. 

Roman bit his lip nervously. How could he even try to make up or excuse any of his actions? He tied off the roll of gauze and closed his eyes, trying to organize his thoughts. 

"Its true, my treatment of you has been abysmal. You are my opposite, I cannot help but find you frustrating, as I'm sure I frustrate you to no end as well," Anxiety nodded concession to that, "But I am not heartless. You don't deserve to suffer like this, especially if I am the cause of it. I let my protective attitude towards Thomas blind me to compassion I should have shown you. I am sorry." Roman thanked years of poetry and public speaking for his ability to speak his mind like that.

Anxiety blinked at him before averting his gaze again, his expression guarded. "Yeh ok, Princy."

The counting didn't return as Roman cleaned the excess blood around the bandages, nor when he packed the first aid kit and returned it to the cabinet under the sink. Anxiety watched him carefully, but it seemed he was done with nerves for now. 

Finally standing again, Roman cracked his back, wincing after being hunched over for so long. Anxiety's eyes had started drooping closed, likely exhausted from the attack. Roman helped him to his feet and to his bed in the oppressively dark bedroom before fumbling in the dark for a moment to find pajama pants to replace Anxiety's ruined jeans.

Finally finding a pair, he tossed them across the room, landing perfectly in Anxiety's lap, who just stared at them, unmoving. Roman sighed. "Do I have to help you put them on?"

That seemed to snap Anxiety out of whatever stupor he had been sitting in. The dark trait shook his head and started navigating his legs into the soft pants.

Once he was dressed, Anxiety started tucking himself into his many blankets. Roman stood awkwardly by the bathroom door, the light barely illuminating the bedroom in front of him. 

"Are you gonna stand there all night or do you wanna watch a movie?" Anxiety asked from the darkness, just before his upper body was illuminated by a laptop he had pulled into bed with him.

Roman was legitimately surprised that Anxiety wanted to be around him at all. "Are you inviting me to hang out?"

The soft glow of the computer illuminated Anxiety just enough for Roamn to see him roll his eyes. "Yes, Princy, I am. Or you could get outta here and leave me alone. That works too." He gave Roman a sardonic look from across the room before shifting to make more space on the bed. "C'mon. Before I change my mind."

Roman absolutely beamed as he pranced over to join him, happily hopping onto the bed, making Anxiety bounce. "Nope! Nope, I'm regretting this decision already." Despite the protest Anxiety was smiling.

Roman grinned at him in the gloom and Anxiety rolled his eyes. "So what do you wanna watch?"

Anxiety shrugged. "I dunno. What was that rom-com with the bursting into song and New York? I never finished that."


End file.
